Walk #180: A Homecoming Loop

It has become our tradition that when I return from my five days of work, we take a walk as a family. Jazmine asked if we were going to go walking within five minutes of my homecoming. This time we took the bunny, in addition to the dog.

This is a nice transition to our rural life. We get a chance to catch up on our adventures, as we lazily walk along.

Savor. Savor. Savor.

By the way, I've added photos to flesh out the stories in the last few day's entries. Enjoy...

Walk #179: Market...

Sunset at the hospital. See why I work there?

Dinner at my favorite restaurant in St. Helena (see above) followed by a walk about town. Afterwards I returned to my room at the hospital, where I took the upper most photos.

Walk #178: Running into Ian (sort of)

Sunday night. Super Duper hot outside.

I waited until the sun had set--then I drove to Calistoga to walk around the town. Calistoga is a perfect walking town. It is filled with quaint cottages and beauty. It was also quite busy, with lots of couples walking hand in hand, having spent the day at the many local spas or wine tasting. A little walk before dinner is a pleasant way to spend the weekend, and couples converge on Calistoga in droves. I'm thinking many families were conceived there.

When I returned to my car (parked in front of the bookstore) I'll be darned if I didn't see the book that Ian contributed to, displayed in the front window. I laughed. Took a photo of it. You are being heavily promoted in Calistoga, Ian!

I would have purchased a copy, but the store was closed. I'll pick it up next time I'm in town.

Walk #177: B Side Checks...

Three Psychiatric Nurses and a Professor...

Yeah, that is me...attempting to be a pseudo intellectual; pontificating on, amongst other things, the end of the American empire, treatment of the mountain lion, the selfishness of the baby boom generation and the lack of after school programs in Concow. Yawn...

Another Saturday night. Another barbecue. The intention was to walk after the gathering, but, well, I didn't. I did manage to spend the night on R.O's couch.

So I'm gonna cheat (I do make up the rules here) and include some work time walking as my walk for this day. Otherwise known as "B Side Checks. This involves the very simple task of having a clipboard and making sure you have visual contact with a client every fifteen minutes. We do this all day--always monitoring, always vigilant.

I've worn a pedometer at work before just to see how far we do walk during the day. Doing this sort of assignment it isn't unusual to walk 8,000 to 12,000 steps in a shift. That would be around four to six miles. All this done within a 200 foot hallway. Up and down. Back and forth. On and on.

Yeah, I know, this is way cheesy and shouldn't count.

On the bright side, driving up the Silverado Trail this morning at 5:30 am, I saw my second mountain lion in two weeks! This one was on the side of the road and had the brightest tan hide. The tail had a black splotch on the very end. Exciting!

Walk #176: Walking the Napa Valley: Rutherford Road and Honig

The Rutherford Grill---get the ribs and the cornbread!

An entrance to an estate. Can you say "tax the rich?"

I walked this road to the winery (above and below).

An every day tragedy.

Okay, this job is rigorous, but I accept. The mission is to walk all the little intersecting roads across the Napa Valley. If I should, by chance, stumble into a winery for a free tasting, well, somebodies gotta do it: me!

The next intersector was Rutherford Road. Rutherford is one of the tiny, little towns that inhabits the Napa Valley. Just a few miles south of St. Helena, it boasts one decent restaurant (the Rutherford Grill...make sure you get the cornbread) and a sprinkling of large wineries. BV is there. Grigich Hills is nearby.

So I walk. A hot day, I walk past a few houses. The road becomes narrow. Off to the sides are some impossibly huge estates. The lawns look like the sort of lawns that people play lawn bowling on. I peek through some gates to see how people live who have lots more money than I do. I bet they have never built a house of straw and mud. Nor would they want to.

I walk on. Past the Napa River til I come to a road lined with Palm Trees. At the conclusion of the road is a new winery. Check it out.

Lovely. Tastings by appointment only. That has never stopped me. I go inside. The hostess tells me that they pair their wine with food, and that the last tasting was an hour ago. "You are welcome to look around", she said.

I do. Typical Napa Valley Gaudy Chic. I belly up to the wine bar, but the server doesn't pour me a glass. Time to move on.

Down the road I turn into Honig Winery. It is about half a mile to the winery. I've had their wine before, as they are reasonably priced. They are by appointment only too, but I manage to talk the wine room guy into a tasting.

As he pours me a glass of wine, I look at the displays. This winery has a sense of humor. The staff are dressed up in all sorts of interesting outfits and poses, with captions like "Honig's Angels" a spoof on Charlies Angels. Seems timely with Farrah Fawcett passing away and all.

We chat. I pull my typical I'm-a-local-nurse-on-a-walk-will-you-give-me-a-free-tasting line. It works. This winery has gone 100 percent solar. They also are attempting to be "sustainable" (not organic). They have created space for a wildlife refuge next to the river (which actually has been won by local enviros pushing for agricultural setbacks). They pump how Green they are. They have created Owl boxes.

Good.

They then serve me four Cabernet's. The 2006 was quite good. They give me a deal on a bottle and I leave. The wine room manager invites me to come back anytime. "I'll serve you when ever you happen to be taking a walk".

Now I don't know if this defeats the purpose of taking a walk: Walking from winery to winery. But heck, it sure is fun.

A trend. I've noticed from several tastings that the 2006 vintage of the Cabernet's are uncommonly good from the Napa Valley. I think this might be one of their better years. Pick up a 2006 Napa Valley Cab from a decent winery and see if you agree.

Walking home, I come across a squished squirrel in the road. Not sanctuary enough for this poor critter.

Walk #175: What's In The Trees? Another Cougar Story...

Can you find the turkey vulture in this photo?

My pup and I walked around Eight this morning. Thought I'd get it done early, as today is a travel day for me. Gotta keep earning that paycheck, so I'll be leaving this afternoon for the Napa Valley.

Angel and I stirred up a turkey vulture. He went and sat in an old Oak tree, where I took his photo.

Trees.

While walking I often forget to look up. Unless I hear something stirring, I often don't see what's hanging out in the branches of trees.

An RN I work with told me this story last weekend. I had been talking about seeing a mountain lion and what a thrill that was.

This RN grew up on a ranch. When she was small, she didn't know what a mountain lion was. But she kept seeing "big kitties" in trees, while wandering around the property. The ranch did have a mountain lion that regularly ate livestock. Anyway, this RN, as a child would climb the trees to go pet the "big kitties".

Evidently, this "big kitty" became so enraptured with her, that he would visit her window at night. Peeking his head above the eave and watching her human. When the little girl told her parents about the big kitty, they didn't believe her.

"I know this all happened", the sixty-something RN told me, "I was much too old to not remember it. I was around eight or nine, at the time". This encounter with the mountain lion has led to a life long affection for the large predator.

"I love them", she told me.

Lest you think this story is bizarre, consider this: The town of Los Gatos, California (home of Steve Wozniak and Joe Kapp) got it's name, according to legend, when a mountain lion was seen playing with some settler children--gently, like a domesticated cat. Los Gatos: the cats.

Walk # 174: Kidney Stones...

Another hot day. I took a short, loop walk with my dog. Sweated the whole time. I'm still dripping as I type this.

Kidney stone weather.

I've been living in the Great Basin Southwest since 1993. The one lesson a Minnesota boy learns by moving to a hot, desert climate is the importance of drinking water. During the summer, Joni and I keep a large cooler filled with ice water. Nothing tastes better. Forget beer, wine and whiskey. Forget fru fru drinks. What a person wants living out here is ice water.

And we don't have air conditioning. Yes, we do have a small, swamp cooler set up for emergencies (we haven't used it yet); we try and survive without air conditioning.

Back to water. For the first ten years living out here, I didn't drink enough water. That led to a nasty pain at 4 am a few years ago. A year later I made another early morning trip to the ER and wrote about that experience here.

Since then, I've been much more careful about consuming water. I have no urgency to experience passing another kidney stone.

Walk #173: Morning and Night

A hot day. We are into the blisteringly hot part of the summer--just entering it. Yes, the Mojave desert may be hotter than the Foothills, but you expect that of a desert. In a sense, the heat of the Mojave is part it's charm, along with the most poisonous of rattlesnakes, the Mojave rattler (complete with both hemo and neuro toxins in it's venom).

The heat here is not as dry, and therefore a bit more uncomfortable. You learn to adapt. Locals take naps and learn to do their work in the morning or the evening (out here, people with jobs--and therefore normal schedules---are the exception to the rule). Walking in the morning just seems too barbaric to me. Mornings are for drinking coffee half-lidded and blearily watching the news.

Just like there are two types of runners: those who run in the morning (to me, an Axis One diagnosis if I ever saw one); and those who run in the afternoon (the sensible folks). I was in the latter category in my once-upon-a-time running days. My pietistic Lutheran Pastor brother belonged to the former category. An early bird. Conventional folks run in the morning; radicals in the afternoon.

So I walk at sunset. And you?

Walk #172: A Family Walk...

Nice to have Joni and the girls along with me tonight. They joined me after I returned from the Napa Valley--having successfully put a few extra shifts together.

The sad thing is that I'm not sure how many of these walks we will continue to have as a Family--as the girls may return to their Father soon (after living with us for five years). A deeply personal story to be determined by a Robed Stranger.

But really, isn't that what life is like? One never knows what will happen when you walk out the door in the morning. There is always the possibility of being hit by a meteor, a traffic accident or (at my age) a disastrous cardiac event.

All things are fragile. Change is a law. Life is as much dependent upon dumb luck as serious planning. Sooner or later, we all have our own personal Armageddon.

A memory of a walk with a Loved One is something to cherish. Relish. Savor. Be present with those who are Presents to you. Even if it is for a few years, a month, a week or an afternoon stroll. Be present.

Walk #171: Extra Shifts...

One nice thing about being an RN is the ability to pick up some extra shifts now and then. Our financial coffers are getting a little like Mother Hubbard's cupboard: empty. So I called work and told them I was available.

Last night, around 8 pm I got the call. I could work today. Seeing as I travel a whole lot, I keep my suitcase packed for such calls. I left shortly after the phone rang and drove to the Napa Valley, arriving around midnight; checked into my St. John of the Cross Room and tried to sleep.

To no avail.

Finally, after a couple hours of sleep, the alarm rang and I showed up not very bushy tailed to work. A glutton for punishment, I worked extra: a twelve hour shift.

So, my walk tonight was short. Twenty minutes around the grounds of the hospital.

As in answer to prayers, I was offered a 12 hour shift tomorrow too. I thankfully picked it up.

This is what Father's do when families are short on money. Happy Father's Day!